Doppelganger
by margroks
Summary: It was just like looking in a mirror


Doppelganger

The rights to the characters of Smallville belong to its producers, the WB Network and DC Comics. I own them not.

Rob Meltzer sat in a dark corner of the bar, watching the sea of humanity around him. It wasn't the kind of bar he normally frequented; he didn't normally frequent bars at all. Too loud, too smoky, too many people drunk or drugged and lacking in any purpose beyond forgetting whatever bothered them in their normal everyday lives. Yet here he was again in this odd place, watching…just watching. He'd decided Club Atlantis was bizarre even by Metropolis standards.

After his last failed relationship, he'd pulled up stakes and moved himself and his Karate school out of state and all the way to Metropolis, thinking time and distance were what he really needed to heal his heart. He'd opened up his school in a quiet part of the city and it was once again a thriving concern. Rob was beginning to settle into the routines of his new life and business and had only recently begun to fully explore beyond the small neighborhood he now called home.

This area was definitely not one he would usually choose to haunt, being in the worst part of town, on the edge of the notorious Suicide Slum area but he'd told himself he'd do something different for a change during a break so he'd wandered into the Atlantis nightclub one hot and sultry summer weekend. Metropolis itself seemed to be having an odd summer with reports of a mysterious masked stranger/vandal/bank robber, depending on the story you wanted to believe. Rob Meltzer, however, had traveled the world and studied martial arts with some of the best and felt he could take care of himself if it came down to it.

The first night he'd come to the front door, he almost left when he saw the long line of people dressed in the latest Metropolis haute couture, displaying themselves and desperate to get in. As Rob had started to back away, the burly bouncer had waved him in, laughing and saying the bartender wanted to talk to him. Aside from a woman who whispered to her companion and pointed in his direction, no one said a word, everyone staring quietly at him as he went inside. Once he was through the door, people, women mostly, were waving and smiling and leaning in with whispered suggestions that stunned him with their boldness. Various men around the room stared, too but theirs was a more solemn, wary look. Rob had seen that look before on the faces of men on the docks in Shanghai or in the seedy districts of Lagos or Cairo; they were taking his measure, sizing him up, deciding if he were predator or prey. He tensed a bit, wondering if he'd be accosted and forced to prove himself one or the other. Women came close, some of them rubbing up against him as though he was a well known regular, of what kind, he wondered. The throbbing music was giving him a headache as he made his way to the bar.

The barkeeper, a youngish man with wild curly hair, smiled and asked, "What'll it be?" with a familiarity that puzzled him.

"Give me a Labatts…"

The man behind the bar turned, ignoring several others who were clamoring for one thing or another and quickly returned with his beer. "Something new, eh, Kal?"

Rob leaned closer and asked, "Do I know you?" as he pulled out his cash.

The barkeep pointed his finger at Rob, smiling, "Real kidder," and held up his hands, saying, "On the house." Then he leaned closer, almost whispering into his ear, "Couple of guys were here again askin' for you. Edge's men." He straightened up, reaching behind him for a glass. "Just thought you'd wanna know."

Rob stood, staring blankly as his benefactor disappeared into a back room, not sure what had just happened. He'd obviously been mistaken for someone else…he intended to catch the man's attention again but he failed to return. His assistant, a leggy long haired blond batted her lashes at him and leaned forward over the bar allowing him a stunning view of her cleavage then winked, slowly licking her lips as she stared at him. She then turned her back to him, bending over and wiggling her ass suggestively just to make certain her invitation was crystal clear. At that point, Rob had backed away, the blond behind the bar turning to stare after him, her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. He found himself passing through a gauntlet of grasping hands and stroking fingers as well as bodies deliberately pressed too close.

Just as he hit the door he felt a hand sliding up his shirt and for an instant he expected the flash of a blade to follow. Instead he saw only the flash of a red ring and a shark-like grin in a face that was hauntingly familiar. For one disorienting moment, he thought he was looking in a mirror and it crossed his mind that the friendly barkeeper might have spiked his beer. But then the face was gone and the ghostly hand evaporated and he was out the door and into the relative coolness of the night.

Weird. Definitely weird; all eyes had been on him as if he'd been the entertainment for the evening in a three ring circus. And Club Atlantis was definitely a circus if he'd ever seen one; Barnum and Bailey had nothing on this place. Now, as he walked down the sidewalk past the still long line of beautiful people waiting and watching, he wondered what it had all been about. He felt fine but he tossed his bottle in a trash can as he passed by the alley, just to be safe. The whole thing bothered him all the way home and his dreams were uneasy ones.

Against his better judgment, Rob returned a few nights later. He told himself it was to figure out what was really going on in Club Atlantis but he knew, deep down, he wanted to know if his doppelganger vision had been real or imagined. Everyone has a double, they say, but Rob Meltzer had thought himself unique. The idea of his face hanging on another person's head was disturbing and he had to know if he'd really seen it. This time he strode up to the bar more forcefully, pushing past the groping hands of men and women alike, intending to test out his theory that his double was as much feared as respected. When he stepped up to the bar, the man behind it, the same curly haired fellow as before, grabbed up a Labatts as soon as he saw him. Rob held up one hand and the barkeeper halted mid step, waiting as though his world turned on Rob's next word.

"Give me a Scotch neat." When the man reached for an open bottle, Rob said, "No," and he halted again, hand poised in mid reach, waiting for whatever instruction came next. "I'll take a fresh bottle, that one over there," and he pointed to a random bottle on the other end of the row behind the bar. The fellow quickly and obligingly grabbed the indicated bottle and set it down with care along with the glass. Rob flashed a wide smile and said, "Thanks, pal; I'll just take the whole bottle," as he threw down a very large bill that more than covered the tab and turned to head to a table in a remote corner where he could watch both the barkeeper and the door. Again, the fellow seemed pleased to have served and served well, smiling back as he returned to his other and presumably less important customers. _Hmmm…_

Rob sat back in the shadowy corner trying to be unobtrusive, pouring out two fingers of scotch but leaving it largely untouched; something told him he should be careful to stay sober. Almost everyone who passed close by nodded with deference; and some seemed more…wary, a hint of fear coloring their effusive greetings. Moments later, a beautiful blonde, who could have been a twin to the girl who'd come on to him from behind the bar the other night, came walking toward him. Smiling seductively and without a word, she straddled his lap, her short skirt riding up to give him a clear view of what she was offering. She kissed him quite thoroughly before he could say a word.

"Oh, Kal…I thought you'd never let me have my chance," she purred when she pulled away. "You're always saying you'll play with us later but later never comes and…" she smiled teasingly and began to grind against him as she whispered some very explicit suggestions into his ear. _Uh…yeah, that would definitely result in someone coming_.

Startled, he almost tipped the chair over backward and the girl, named Cherry according to the catcalls that had erupted earlier when she'd made her entrance, giggled when the chair came down hard on all four legs. His eyes widened at the additional pressure then, reluctantly, he started to push her away. She pushed her lower lip out in a pout; did all the Metropolis women have this pouty lip thing patented? "Cherry…" and as another experiment he furrowed his brow, looking stern and unhappy. "Leave me," he added, his voice firm. Cherry hastily jumped up, saying, "I'm sorry, Kal! I'm sorry!" then she was gone, fleeing out a side door into the night. He felt a moment's guilt and his body was asking, _what the hell did you do that for?_ but he'd proved his point. This time, as he made his way to the door with an angry scowl still on his face, the crowd parted before him, subdued now and aware of his suddenly soured mood. No one, it seemed, wanted to become the focus of Kal's displeasure.

He walked away, even more puzzled than before. It had been no drug induced illusion. Rob Meltzer had a double somewhere and the people of Club Atlantis apparently knew him well enough to fear his wrath as well as beg to give him pleasure. Now he was hooked. He had to find this guy and see for himself. His reputation, after all, could be at stake.

A few blocks away, a group of girls passed by, giggling as they made their way along the street. He heard them mention Atlantis; apparently this place was Metropolis's latest hot nightclub and everyone's destination for a real good time. The music was still too loud for his taste but to each his own.

One of the girls, a petite blonde, left the group, presumably turning back in the direction of their car. "I forgot my purse." she said, still laughing. "Go on; I'll meet you inside." Behind him, a car door creaked open on hinges that needed a little oil. Suddenly he heard a yelp and looked back. A man had his hand around her throat, dragging her back toward the shadow of an alley. The girl elbowed him in the crotch, breaking free but tripped on something and fell. He grabbed her again and Rob saw the glint of a blade in the light from the streetlamp. Running back as quickly as he could, he grasped the hand that held the knife, sending it flying with a swift twist. The man let go of his victim and after Rob delivered another swift kick and jab, stumbled away into the darkness. Rob reached down, offering her a hand up. She took his hand and stood, breathless as she gasped out, "Thanks-" she stopped suddenly when she got a look at his face, jerking her hand away. "Going back to saving people or you just can't decide?"

Rob stared at her, puzzled. "Excuse me?"

"What is it this time, Clark? On odd days you're nice, on even days you're a jerk?"

His forehead wrinkled in confusion. "I…you looked like you could use some help but if I was mistaken…I'll just go…"

"Oh, yeah, you just do that. Run away again. Just remember, I didn't come looking for you so don't claim this is an excuse to run away somewhere else." She reached into the car and grabbed her purse out, practically stomping her foot in frustration when she stood again. "Well, what are you waiting for? Shouldn't you be going back to your fancy apartment?"

Rob put his hands out in placation. "Look, you obviously have me confused with someone else…" he stopped, wondering who this guy was that seemed to inspire such lust and fear and now…clear anger. "Who…exactly…is it you think I am?" He waited, hoping to get some information.

Chloe Sullivan took a step toward him and looked him in the eye. Her own eyes narrowed as she examined him up close. Then she pulled back, her mouth a tight line. "You're joking. Right? Getting off by pretending you don't even know me now?"

"Miss…I've never met you before but you're not the first person I've encountered who thinks I'm someone else. Who am I supposed to be?" He tried to seem as sincere as possible, hoping for the best and he gave her a little smile.

"Damn it, Clark, don't do that!" She got close, looking him in the eye once more. "You're Clark and you ran away and you're making everybody crazy worrying about you…"

"I'm sorry; I'm not Clark." _Clark__? How many doppelgangers do I have?_ He touched her arm softly, saying, "But you think I look like him?" Sighing, he added, "I'm having a really weird evening…"

Chloe stared at him, her own expression softening at his apparent sincerity. "Oh…oh, God…you've got amnesia now? You really don't remember who you are? She dragged him over to a spot where the full light of the streetlamp fell on him and examined him again.

"I know exactly who I am. My name's Rob and I moved here not long ago and I'm already wondering if that was such a good idea. Metropolis is turning out to be a pretty weird place."

Alarmed, Chloe asked, "You think your name is Rob? Oh, man…you _are_ suffering from a multiple personality disorder…I _knew_ it…we can get help, Clark-"

"I'm not Clark. I'm Rob."

"_Sure_ you are. Why don't you come with me and…"

"What?"

"Well, let's just go somewhere and talk, okay…you can always leave if you want to and you can tell me what you _do_ remember." She patted his arm, smiling kindly now. "Come on…" she added, solicitously, "I promise I won't go anywhere you don't want me to."

Rob debated for a moment whether he should go with this rather feisty young woman who thought he was somebody else. She was the first person he'd met who acted normally towards him, in spite of her anger. "Okay, but…I want you to understand I'm not who you think. I don't know this Clark person but I think I might like to find him."

"So would a lot of people."

A tear rolled down her fair cheek as she said, "Okay…Rob, was it? We'll just talk and I'll tell you about Clark and you can tell me all about yourself. Just a minute." She was sniffling as she pulled out her cell phone. "Hey, Liz…it's Chloe…yeah, something's come up and I have to go. Call me when you're ready to come home or call a cab and I'll pay. Sorry…yeah, it's really important. Okay…thanks…bye." She looked up at him, wiping her eyes and asked, "Alright, where do you wanna go?"

"There's a restaurant a few blocks that way. To tell you the truth, Atlantis gives me a headache; I need some quiet." He offered her a handkerchief and she laughed as she took it.

"Thanks. Get in; let's go."

The neighborhood bar and grill turned out to be a few blocks further than he'd remembered but fortunately, it was a few blocks in the direction of downtown and had a fairly decent menu as a result. Rob picked a Vegetarian Delight cheese burger with all the trimmings and a side salad; he asked for hot green tea and was mildly disappointed when he had to settle for regular Lipton's after finding none was available. Chloe picked chicken salad on rye and a jumbo order of fries along with coffee then settled back to observe.

"What?" he asked as he fiddled with the tea bag.

"Hot tea, huh?"

"I'm surprised they don't have more variety here; I mean, this is Metropolis. I've grown quite fond of green tea." When the waitress brought a coffee refill, Rob asked, "Could I get some honey? Locust honey if you have it."

The gravelly voiced waitress disappointed him again. "Sorry, buddy; we just got plain honey." She returned shortly with the honey and the rest of their meal.

Chloe automatically shoved the French fries between them. Rob looked up at her and she said, "Oh, right. Sorry; habit…Clark always steals my fries so I just…well…have one if you like."

"Well…thanks for the thought…" he took one then returned to his own meal and she finally moved the plate of fries aside out of the way.

She tried to be discreet, stealing furtive glances at him as he ate, eating her own sandwich in silence. "Clark would have eaten half of them…"

"I'm-"

"Not Clark," she finished for him.

"You're staring at me."

"Sorry. The light's better here and…you do seem…different somehow…older maybe but…"

"Starting to think maybe I'm not your friend? How old is this guy?" He'd pegged Chloe for a college girl but now, in the light, she seemed younger; only in high school, perhaps.

"Clark is…was a sophomore in high school." She leaned over the table getting as close to his face as she could. "Clark always looked a little older than he was. When I first knew him he was so tall for his age; he towered over everyone else…actually, he still does." She laughed, "He always looks so scrunched up in those little chairs…he's just huge and he's got big clumpy feet-" Chloe glanced over the edge of the table at one of Rob's own big feet stretched out to the side. "No offense."

"None taken."

"I miss his big clumpy size fourteens."

"Now see," Rob nodded and pointed to his shoe, "I'm only a thirteen…well…thirteen wide."

"Ha! Wides are always longer. Not proof." She sniffled, adding, "Anyway, he ran away before the end of the year." She frowned, adding, "Wonder what hoops Principal Reynolds will make him jump through to make up for that?"

"You're so sure you'll find him?"

"I…did find him. Clark said if I told anyone where he was he'd run away so far we'd never see him again." Her eyes brimming with tears, she declared, "He has to come back to us… Please don't run, Clark! Please just come home; whatever's wrong, we can fix it!"

Rob closed his eyes, trying to think of something he could do or say to convince this girl he wasn't her long lost…friend…boyfriend…whatever Clark was to her because she hadn't really said. "Chloe…is Clark…are you dating?"

"No."

"So you're just good friends?"

"Not even that anymore."

Somehow, he didn't believe that. Nor could he imagine that a sophomore in high school could inspire such fear (and lust; don't forget that; the memory of Cherry writhing in his lap was still fresh). "Yet you're searching for him and willing to follow a stranger who resembles him-"

"If you're not Clark, you look an awful lot like him. You…except for your hair being shorter and combed differently, you could certainly pass for him. Changing your hair is easy enough."

"Yes…it would be but…do you have a picture of your friend?"

Chloe nodded and pulled out her billfold to display an old picture of Clark, Pete and Chloe, taken one summer when life had been simpler. She teared up again when she looked at it. "Here. That's…that's Pete… It was the first summer I knew them both; just before the start of eighth grade after we moved to Smallville from Metropolis." The photo showed three kids, all dripping wet, standing in front of an old tire swing which hung from a huge tree. Chloe stood next to a dark skinned boy, the infamous Clark standing behind them both, grinning from ear to ear. She laughed in spite of her tears. "Pete and I hadn't even gotten in yet and Clark jumped up and did a cannonball off that old swing and soaked us both. I think Pete knew it was coming; trial by water for the new kid." She looked up, watching him. "You really don't remember?"

"Sorry, but I've never been there. I'm a karate instructor with my own dojo; I probably wasn't even in the country when this was taken. I've spent a lot of time in China and Japan…ran away, actually when I was about Clark's age; ended up in Tibet; my parents were furious." "Understandably." he admitted, "I realize that now that I'm older." Pulling out his wallet, he showed her his driver's license. "Honestly, I'm not your Clark but if you can tell me where to find him…"

Obviously still suspicious, she stared at his license for a few moments before looking up. "This could be faked, too. But if you're not Clark then I can't help you. If I did, he might spook and run; I don't want to give him the excuse. If you do run into him…be careful. He's not himself…" her eyes welled up with tears again as she looked at him.

"Chloe…"

"I know…" she sighed, "you're-"

"Not Clark. Look…if I find him, I'll say hello."

"No! No…don't mention me at all. I'm…no one; not to Clark, anyway, not anymore."

"But you know where he is; you said you found him and he apparently trusted you not to tell anyone else."

"Go figure. Clark must have thought the only person he could trust with that secret is the one person he couldn't trust with others."

"Chloe…I'm sorry you two are on the outs…"

Intently, she looked him in the eye again. "Just…like I said, be careful. Clark's off the deep end and his parents are a mess. We all want him to come back."

"Have you moved back to Metropolis then?"

"No, I'm just working at the Planet for the summer; I have a column."

"Really? Impressive. Lot of weird stuff to report right now. Any ideas about this mystery man who tossed the globe? That's gotta be a priority story for the staff. Or…was that a publicity stunt?"

"No! The Planet would _never_ be party to something like that!"

"I meant by that guy, that…Discount Eddie; the one whose store was supposedly the target."

"Oh…well, no; as far as we know it really happened and Eddie had nothing to do with it. Truth is, no one can figure out how it was physically possible to remove the globe from its moorings much less toss it all the way to Discount Eddie's. It took a long time to get the building top ready for it and a day to install it. It's inconceivable that it could be tossed like a child's toy."

"But it happened. And the bank robberies? Was that the same guy? I saw the tape of that on the evening news. The bulletproof bankrobber. Mass hypnosis or superhuman? "

"Who knows? That tape was…astounding. I saw the mask he wore; it looked like Swiss cheese…no human being could have survived that. Not to mention that the way he just disappeared afterward was likewise amazing."

"What about the police car exploding? Did he cause that somehow? It looked like he just glared at the car and it-"

"Just exploded. No one can figure out how he could have done that either." Morosely, Chloe stared into her coffeecup.

Rob pulled his wallet out again and grabbed the check.

"No, you mustn't-"

"Chloe, please. Let me. I've enjoyed your company and I'm sorry it wasn't under cheerier circumstances. Now, come on; I'll walk you to your car."

Once outside, they walked in silence until they reached her little car. Chloe hesitated with her fingers on the door handle. "You need a ride?" She looked up.

"No, actually I parked a little ways back in that direction. I'll walk but thanks."

"Okay..just…take care, please."

"I will. Bye, Chloe." He smiled warmly and headed off back in the general direction of Atlantis when she turned away. Glancing back, he saw she was watching him intently. "What?"

"You're still here…I thought you'd just be gone if I turned away…"

"Why would you think that?"

"It's a Clark thing."

Smiling, Rob raised his index finger. "Right." He gave her a little wave and continued down the street until he reached his car and sat down heavily inside. The well worn leather seats were oddly comforting on this weird night and he sat quietly, deep in thought for a few moments before heading off toward home. Chloe was sitting in her red beetle watching him approach, an odd look on her face so he stopped and leaned out the open window. "What?"

"You're driving a _Volvo_!"

"They're reliable and the wagon's great for hauling stuff... You've got something against Volvos?"

"That's so…so…yuppie!"

"Well, it's an old Volvo…"

"Old yuppie then. My _dad_ used to have a Volvo." Rob smiled ruefully, waving as he drove off. He could see Chloe watching him until she was out of sight.

Rob's mind kept returning to Chloe's tearful face as she described her lost friend. Her denials to the contrary, he was sure they'd been more than friends at some point but that was just part of the mystery. That had been a week ago and he'd taken that long to drum up the further courage necessary to continue the search for his double. It was Saturday night and Club Atlantis was louder than ever before. The floor was so crowded there was barely room to dance. Business was booming but the normally gregarious bartender seemed strangely subdued. A new guy with an odd tattoo on his right cheek was assisting behind the bar. Actually, the guy was mostly watching and doing very little serving and the barkeep and his other assistants moved warily around him; another oddity to add to the growing pile of weirdness into which he's stumbled. So…why didn't he just leave and go back home and leave this to…others? Whatever was going on here was not even remotely normal or legal; that was obvious. Drugs were blatantly exchanged outside the men's room and the women who came stumbling out of the ladies' lounge were clearly in an altered state. Most of the people here were flying high on something and he wondered if the barkeeper got a cut or if he were merely paid a little extra to look the other way.

Slipping into a secluded alcove near the side door where he could observe without being seen, he waited. Tattoo Man's eyes swept the crowd, obviously not seeing what he wanted. Scowling, he slammed a bottle down on the bar in apparent frustration making everyone nearby jump. His eyes locked on Rob's shadowy form for a moment then moved on, scanning the room again in search of his elusive quarry, whatever or whoever that might be. For an instant, Rob thought he saw something move near him out of the corner of his eye. He had the most fleeting impression of glowing red tinged eyes in the darkness and a cool breeze enveloped him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up in primitive response and a chill crept up his spine; his back brain was clearly warning him to flee but he held his ground and saw nothing more.

After a while, he gave up and slipped out the side door into the alley, heading for his car and home. Near the rear door of the club he stopped, hearing the crunch of gravel up ahead and faded back against the wall, waiting. He didn't have to wait long.

Even over the pounding music that vibrated through the very walls of Club Atlantis, Rob heard the yell as a body flew through the air, illuminated by a street light as it sailed off onto a parked car about thirty feet away. Whoever it was had lucked out, his fall broken by a convertible's soft top; even so, he didn't get up. Another scuffle was taking place as Rob edged closer; this time a hulking bruiser of a man rushed a taller figure who stood calmly under the light outside the club's back door. The larger man bounced off the other, almost comically as if he'd run into a wall and fell flat on his back. The tall man leaned over and grabbed his attacker by the front of his shirt, lifting him off the pavement with one hand and holding him high overhead.

"Let's get this straight. You tell Morgan Edge to back off; if I want to talk to him, I'll let him know. Now get your buddy and get the hell out before I change my mind. When I come back you'd better be gone."

The man casually tossed his captive off into a nearby dumpster a few feet up ahead and disappeared. Rob blinked and shook his head. _What the hell?_ The guy had just vanished. Standing boldly in the light then gone in the blink of an eye or so it seemed. Puzzled, he inched forward and watched as the big guy climbed down out of the dumpster and limped over to his comrade who had slid off the convertible onto the ground. He struggled to his feet and together they stumbled off down the street as best they could.

Rob cautiously moved forward out of the shadows, still looking for the third man when suddenly someone grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed him up against the wall, pinning him there. His skills proved useless at breaking his attacker's grip, the attempts met with a derisive sneer. Two red tinged eyes glared at him from beneath shaggy locks as they stood nose to nose, a feral grin spread across this stranger's face that could have been his own. For the first time in his adult life, Rob Meltzer felt uncomfortably like prey.

"And just who the hell…are you…" he trailed off, the grin fading as he looked more closely into Rob's face. "Damn…just like looking in the mirror…"

"I could say the same thing-" Suddenly, Rob felt himself hoisted high at the end of one long muscular arm. _This was no high school kid…_

"I've seen you in the club…are you following me? Did Jor-El send you? Is this another ploy to get me back? You tell Jor-El he can-"

"Jor-El? Is he…does he work for Morgan Edge?"

Laughing, he spat out, "No," and slowly lowered Rob until his feet touched the ground.

"So…_are_ you this Kal everyone's been talking about?"

"And if I am?" he said, leaning closer, an air of quiet menace creeping into his voice once more. "What's it to you?"

Perhaps it was just his imagination but the reddish tint in his captor's eyes seemed to intensify, the irises themselves almost glowing as they bored into his own. Rob's back brain was screaming now but it was no use. "If you are Kal, I've been mistaken for you; I'd like to know who they think I am. And who's this Jor-El guy-"

"You don't know?"

"No, never heard of him. Where's he from?" The man loosened his grip a little, looking up and down Rob's tall frame as he examined him more closely, like he was a bug under a microscope. "What's he look like-"

"Liar! Just look in a mirror! I know he sent you!" With a low growl, he ripped Rob's shirt open, his eyes widening with anger. "But he didn't mark you!" His voice bordered on the hysterical now, higher and quivery. "Why didn't he mark you?" Kal lifted Rob high, shaking him roughly at the end of one long arm then slamming him against the wall so hard he saw stars. "What are you? The back-up plan? The good son who does his father's bidding?"

"I…don't know what…what…you're…" Kal wrapped one huge hand around Rob's throat and he started to pass out as he tightened his steely grip. A moment later, the fingers relaxed and he gasped for air as Kal lowered him. Rob wobbled on two rubbery legs; Kal's hand still gripping his torn shirt front was all that kept him from falling.

"So why don't you have my abilities? You're obviously no match for me…look like me but no strength or anything else…so…what…you're just a cheap knock-off?" Kal's last words carried another tremulous hint of its former hysteria but Rob had ceased trying to understand.

_Define cheap knock-off_, Rob thought blearily as he fought to stay conscious. _Wacko.__ This guy is totally wacko._ He winced as Kal shoved him up against the wall again.

Head pounding in time to the heavy beat from inside and his vision a blur, he saw only the fuzzy image of a bright red ring on one big hand coming closer until it was pressed hard against one cheek; the stone felt oddly warm against his skin. Rob's head cleared a little and he hoped Kal was done shaking him. Kal's eyes bored into his expectantly, their odd red cast apparent even in the dim light. "What about this? Huh? Nothing? No rush at all?" After a moment, he pulled his hand away. "You're not like me…" Turning, he ran a hand through his dark hair, mumbling, "You're nothing like me…"

Slowly, Rob slid down the rough brick wall, sprawling inelegantly behind the overflowing dumpster when he hit the ground and the world faded to black.

Shouting, a gunshot and a cry of rage roused him back to consciousness. He tried to sit up but an agonizing headache and the nausea that went with it caused him to rethink that course of action. Several more gunshots made staying put seem like an even better idea. Rob drew his legs up behind the dumpster, hoping the adjacent mound of refuse would further shield him. Wincing, he turned slightly, watching as a man hit the wall hard, the light revealing his odd facial tattoo. Tattoo Man reeled away just as Kal's huge fist smashed into the wall where the man's head had been, sending a spray of concrete chips and dust into the alley. _Ow__…that had to hurt…_although Kal seemed unfazed

"I thought I made myself clear. I work alone. Now get lost before I _really_ lose my temper! Tell Edge-"

Tattoo Man hissed, "This is between you and me; I don't know how you pulled it off but no one's really bulletproof!"

Rob peeked out, saw the glint of metal in Tattoo Man's hand and shouted, "Look out!" as the thug emptied a clip at Kal's chest. Rounds ricocheted, striking the metal of the dumpster as Rob quickly ducked back down behind it.

A moment later, Kal asked, "Are you learning impaired? We did this already."

Next, he heard the sound of a clip being loaded and another hail of bullets exploded in Kal's direction. Rob crawled farther away, peering cautiously around the corner of the dumpster when the firing ceased. Kal was still standing, apparently unharmed. _Guy must be a lousy shot to miss with an automatic at this range._

Kal disappeared from view only to instantly reappear behind the gunman, backlit by the security lamp at the rear door of the club. There was an audible crunch as Kal grabbed the weapon from the man's hand and flung it away into the darkness. The gun hit the closed lid of the dumpster behind which Rob still crouched with a loud bang and fell behind it, just missing his already abused head. On picking it up, he discovered it looked like a mudball squeezed hard by a child's hand until the soft mud oozed out between mischievous fingers; the crosshatched pattern from the handle grip, still discernable on one lumpy protrusion, was the only thing that marked it as having once been a gun. Placing it in the palm of his right hand, he curled his fingers around it and found they fit nicely into the depressions, only slightly smaller than those that had crushed it. He felt a sudden chill despite the muggy heat of the Metropolis summer.

A moment later, Tattoo Man followed, landing heavily on the pile of boxes and garbage bags spilling from the dumpster. Rising, he leaned shakily against the wall and lurched crookedly across the side alley until he reached the parking lot next door. There he fell again and crawled off on hands and knees until he disappeared between the cars. A mercury vapor lamp in the middle of the lot lent a surreal cast to the tableau before him as Rob watched Kal stalk off after the fleeing man, an odd smirk on his-_my_-face. A moment later, his jaw dropped when Kal leaned down and grabbed the front fender of a shiny new Porsche with one hand, lifting it up, presumably, to get at his quarry then flipping it over and out of the way. Rob shook his head, thinking he was imagining things. Shaking his head proved to be a very bad idea. The world began to spin around him so he leaned back, closing his eyes and resting his head against the wall as he waited for the pain to subside.

Rob heard Kal say, "Come out, come out, wherever you are." The sounds of rending metal and breaking glass were loud in his ears then abruptly all was quiet.

The sound of crunching gravel farther down the alley made Rob look up. A second man was crouching down behind a parked car; he was holding something long…a rifle…no…it was too big… Rob shouted, "Grenade launcher! Run!" and scrambled down the row of dumpsters as fast as he could. Daring one last look when he reached the rear most dumpster in the corner next to the stairs, he saw Kal calmly advancing on the man holding the launcher then the muzzle flash and Kal's body enveloped in flame. Rob covered his ears and head, ducking down just before the concussion wave threw him against the wall.

When Rob came to he was being carried down a dark alley. He had a monstrous headache; in fact, he hurt all over. A concussion, in all likelihood which probably accounted for the fact that everything seemed like a blur. At least the feel of wind on his face made him feel a little better; now if he could only figure out where he was and who was carrying him and, hey, while he was at it, he'd like to know where he was going. Giving up, he closed his eyes again, opening them only when his captor or savior, he wasn't sure which, came to a halt and laid him gently on the ground. For a moment, Kal's face loomed over him, eyes wide, mouth twisted in a grimace and before he backed away out of Rob's line of sight.

A moan came from somewhere to his right and Rob rolled over to look in spite of his agonizing headache. Kal was half groaning, half yelling in obvious pain as he sank to his knees. His clothes were shredded and charred, his body blackened with soot. Certain he'd seen the grenade hit him, Rob couldn't imagine how he'd survived. His hands clawed at his own chest where, to Rob's horror, a vivid triangular brand appeared, seared deep into his flesh, burning bright in the darkness. Kal howled so loudly Rob covered his ears as he watched his double writhe on the ground, finally grabbing his right hand and pulling off the blood red ring that now glowed as brightly as the brand. Then Kal collapsed, breathing heavily and lay still at last on the dirty pavement.

Rob slowly crawled over to him, gently slapping his cheek as he asked, "What…are you…alright?" It seemed a stupid thing to ask of someone who'd just been blown up and apparently branded but Kal turned his head toward him and gave him a weak but wry smile.

"Been better." Kal croaked, sounding slightly less agonized than before. He flopped over onto his back and lay panting for a few minutes before sitting up and running his hands through his hair, dislodging a few pieces of metal and small chunks of concrete.

Now Rob realized that although Kal's clothes were practically burned away in places, his skin and hair, though dirty, were unmarred except for the brand itself. No wounds or burned flesh anywhere except for the angry glowing welt on his chest which was fading even as he watched.

"What the hell just happened?" Rob put his throbbing head back on the ground. His stomach threatened to betray him if he didn't lie still for a bit. He watched as Kal stared intently at the walls of the buildings all around him as though looking for something in particular.

"Grenade launcher. Thanks for the warning." Kal shook his head before standing and brushing at the remnants of his jeans. "Guess that's pointless," he muttered as he looked down at Rob more closely. "Hey…you alright?" Kal knelt beside him, eyeing him the same way he had the brick walls of the alley a moment before. "Nothing's broken. Can you walk?"

"Gimme a minute," he mumbled as he promptly passed out again. When he came to this time, Kal was leaning over him, his face peering at him with lively interest, no sign of his former distress apparent. Bleary eyed, he tried to focus on his mirror image. Rob gestured weakly with one hand, pointing vaguely at Kal's chest. "I meant…the scar…what…how'd you…get that…" he blinked then gave up, closing his eyes, keeping them open was simply too great an effort.

"Ah…that's the family crest. My father's way of getting my attention."

"Nice guy."

"Real father of the year." Kal fell silent, waiting. After a while he asked, "Can you really walk?"

"No. Don't think so. Sorry." He heard a sigh and felt himself lifted again. "Wait! Uh…" Kal halted, setting him down again. Rob turned away, retching until his stomach quieted. Kal picked him up again and started walking.

"You live anywhere close?"

"No…" he took a couple of deep breaths, "Suburbs…northeast…quite a ways…"

"What're you doing down here? Suicide Slum's a long way from the burbs; if you were looking for trouble, I'd say you found it. You got a car?"

"Yeah…parked just north of the club…near Bassolo Boulevard and…and…Hobbs…Avenue or Street or something…"

Suddenly everything was a blur again and Rob closed his eyes; in an instant, they were at Bassolo and Hobbs.

"Okay, now where?"

Opening his eyes, Rob asked, "We're here already?" Looking around he pointed across the street. "That way. There." Kal carried him hurriedly in that direction.

"A little help here. Which one's yours?"

"There. The red wagon."

"You drive a Volvo?"

"Man…everyone disses my car," he muttered. "Just…put me in it. Let me rest; I'll be okay."

"You can't just sleep in your car; Edge's men are still around. They'll find you and it won't be good. And my place isn't safe. Gimme the keys; I'll drive you home; just tell me where. You gotta get out of here. If we're lucky, Edge's men are off bragging to their boss about my demise and won't decide to search for me to make sure."

Kal shifted Rob, leaning him over against his shoulder much as if he were a small child and opened the door, gently placing him into the passenger seat, which he reclined as much as possible. Rob laid back, eyes closed and hoping his head and his stomach would soon improve. The old car started without complaint and Kal herded it toward the northern suburbs as fast as he dared. Their journey was rather circuitous, or so it seemed to Rob; Kal appeared to be avoiding the more direct route in favor of back streets and alleys just in case someone was tailing them. A few times, he took some abrupt turns and Rob thought they were actually heading in the wrong direction but eventually they made it to the more respectable parts of the city.

Once they reached the main artery which led through the downtown area past the Daily Planet Building and Luthorcorp Plaza, Kal seemed to relax; slowing down at last, he gave Rob the impression he no longer thought they might be followed. Finally, they exited off the Metropolis Beltway toward the northeastern suburbs and he dozed, lulled by the motion of the car, rousing only once when Kal shook him, asking for his exit and actual address. Sometime later, the Volvo slowed, Rob's eyes opening halfway as they turned onto the narrow gravel driveway of his property.

Rob came more fully awake at the sound of the aging garage door inching its way upward then they were inside and the door slowly shut, preventing any prying eyes from seeing the two quite disreputable figures emerging from the old car. Rob didn't really want to have to explain his clearly deplorable condition to his elderly neighbors, the Lagerfelts who, though they were very nice, were a bit too interested in other people's affairs. Rob was again carried, this time through the kitchen, up a flight of stairs and down a hallway where he directed Kal into his bedroom with a grunt and another vague wave of his hand. Kal laid him on the bed, yanking off his shoes and scooting him under the covers. A mumbled, "Thanks…help yourself to whatever…" was all the conversation he could muster. He heard Kal rummaging in the bathroom cabinet only to reappear with some pills and a glass of ice water.

"Here…I found some percocets; take a couple of these. Your head's gonna hurt like hell in the morning if you don't."

"It hurts like hell right now. And my stomach isn't very happy either," he added, making a face.

"Well, lucky for you I found these, too; you can take 'em together. My…" he hesitated, "dad took them last year when he broke his leg. Here," first he handed him the stomach medicine then the pain pills. Rob took them all, grateful for the help.

"That…the guy who branded you?" he asked as he swallowed the last of the water.

"No," he said quietly. "He's…was…my adopted father." Kal looked away.

"Look…I'm sorry…none of my business." Rob blinked, the drugs making him a little woozy as they started to take hold. "I…what happened to the car in that lot next to the club?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice wary.

"It looked like you…you just picked one of 'em up and tossed it aside."

Quiet for a moment, Kal finally said, "I'm…that's…how could I do that?"

"You tell me."

"You've got quite a lump on your head; I'd say you've got a concussion and you're seeing things."

Rob stared at his double and mumbled, slurring his words now, "Yeah. Sure…look…um…I'm just gonna pass out here…I'm…thanks; I owe you. Stay if you want." Waving his hand vaguely toward the closet, he added, "Clothes in there…spare bedroom down the hall," then he lay back, unable to keep his head up any longer.

"I suppose someone should really stay with you. You're a mess, you know it?"

"Well…if that's not the pot calling the kettle black…" Chuckling softly, he closed his eyes. "This from the guy who got blown up by a grenade…" he mumbled, "Thanks again," before he fell asleep, at last.

The sun was already high by the time Rob came awake. He was instantly aware of the lump on the back of his head but it, along with the rest of his aches and bruises was rapidly improving; luckily, he had always recovered quickly from injuries, or illness for that matter, on those rare occasions when he had actually gotten sick. Fresh ice water and more medication sat on the nightstand next to the bed but he decided to forgo them, wanting to be clear-headed when he spoke to Kal.He rose, stumbling into the bathroom for a much needed hot shower. When he emerged, the smell of fresh coffee drew him down to the kitchen.

Carefully, he made his way downstairs, not wanting to startle his guest. Rounding the corner, he found Kal peering out the kitchen window as he sipped a cup of coffee. Rob couldn't help staring for a moment when Kal turned around; although he looked a lot younger than Rob had originally thought, by God, it _was_ like looking in a mirror. "Uh…morning."

"Thought you could use some coffee. Hope you don't mind; I fixed some eggs and toast."

"God…no, I…I'm hungry, too. My stomach seems to have recovered…" Rob took a seat at the table, pointing to another chair. "Look, I'm sorry…I…this is just too weird…you really do look just like me. I thought maybe I'd imagined the resemblance but obviously I didn't."

Kal sat heavily in a chair across from him. "I don't understand it but…there's no denying we do look alike."

"Do you think maybe…maybe we're related?"

"Doubt it."

"But you said you'd been adopted. Maybe-"

Kal sighed and leaned over the table. "No; my bio-family isn't from anywhere around here."

"I'm originally from the East coast but my great great grandfather came from somewhere south of here-"

Kal leaned back, running a hand through his dark hair. "No, sorry. Believe me, we can't possibly be related." Leaning forward again, he looked Rob in the eye. "Listen to me. I can't explain what happened last night and I honestly don't know why we look so much alike. But I do know you're in danger if you ever go back to Atlantis. Morgan Edge's men will be looking for me and if they mistake you for me…well, you saw what they tried to do last night. Don't go back there; in fact, stay out here in the burbs; I think you'll be safe here but watch your back just the same. I'll deal with Edge." Rob opened his mouth to object but Kal silenced him with an outstretched hand. "I interfered with one of their…operations. Actually, Edge took it rather well but the guy with the tattoo got totally bent over it. He's mad as hell and he'd kill you in a heartbeat if he got the chance to get even."

"Maybe you should stay away, too."

"Naw…I have a score to settle." Looking at Rob over the rim of his coffee cup, he added, "I'll be fine…just…don't get involved. Let me take care of Tattoo Guy." Kal rose, setting his cup down on the table.

"You're…" he wanted to ask if Kal was really a high school kid but stopped, hesitant to reveal he's spoken to Chloe. She'd seemed sure it would make her friend angry if he knew.

"What?"

"Younger than I thought last night."

Kal stared at him intently then turned away, saying nothing as he walked to the door. Opening it, he looked back at Rob one last time. "Thanks for the clothes."

"No problem. Uh…if you need a place to crash, if you ever need anything, you're welcome to come back…"

"No; I won't be back." Kal dug into his pocket, pulling out a thick leather pouch, upending it and the red ring he'd been wearing earlier dropped into his palm. Rob didn't miss the look of eyes widened in anticipation as he slipped it onto the finger of his right hand. Closing his eyes, he took one deep breath as the veins in his arm popped out, embossed in red, writhing beneath the skin like snakes. Rob's own eyes widened as he watched. When Kal opened his eyes again, they were tinged in red, the irises glowing copper in the morning sun. Now he seemed older, more dangerous. Frighteningly intense.

His gaze now cold and distant, there was no sign of the young man he'd been a moment before. "I don't want to see you again. Don't come back; if you do, you'll regret it." And with that he was gone, the door closing behind him as he simply vanished from sight.

Rob sat quietly at the table in his cozy kitchen for a long while, contemplating the astonishing transformation he had just witnessed. He wasn't sure if Kal's last words had been a warning or a threat. He would be wondering what exactly it all meant for a long time to come.

Some years passed and Rob Meltzer found himself in Northern California where he was now a highly paid security consultant and self defense instructor for corporate executives who had professional or personal concerns for their safety. It had definitely been a moneymaker, so lucrative in fact that he was now quite well off and it had led to a rather shadowy existence. His life was lived largely off the beaten path and few people knew who he was. Not a bad existence, by any means, but he still missed teaching young children; not being influenced by the fears that brought his adult clients to him, their enthusiasm had always been unparalleled.

Today, he dismissed his staff and shooed his personal assistant off for a long weekend then followed a narrow little trail behind his house that led to the Japanese rock garden at the rear of his property. Once there, he sat for a long while watching as the sun began its slow descent out over the ocean. He was feeling in a rather contemplative mood as he made his way inside to fix a light supper, intending to return at full dark for an anticipated meteor shower. A bright streak overhead caught his attention just as he reached the door, apparently an early arrival, ahead of the main swarm; perhaps this evening would indeed be as spectacular as astronomers had predicted.

Of course, he reflected, as he sat eating a salad in the small breakfast nook, cosmic fragments falling from the sky were no longer taken quite so lightly by anyone after the incident in which an asteroid had threatened Earth. Only the strange visitor from another planet who called himself Superman had saved the human race from certain disaster. Rob was grateful like everyone else for his intervention but it was only when he'd watched as Superman spoke to the people of his adopted planet before leaving that he finally understood. His doppelganger was none other than Superman himself; a bit younger and different, perhaps, in some subtle way but Rob was certain he was the fellow he'd encountered in Metropolis years ago. When Superman had suddenly disappeared after the first attempt at destroying the asteroid and many feared he'd died in the attempt, Rob had somehow known he was alive. Waiting along with the rest of the world as the asteroid drew closer and hopes dimmed, Rob had been at peace, knowing that Superman would find a way, almost as if he maintained some tenuous connection to his double. Surprisingly, no one had ever remarked on the resemblance but he supposed the average Earthling would never expect to see a superman in the face of one of their own.

Amazing, when he thought about it but it would remain his secret. He owed the guy that much though to this day he still didn't understand what had happened or what part the red ring had played. Perhaps the ring was actually what gave Superman his extraordinary abilities but he would probably never really know. Rob shook his head, chuckling at himself and all this introspection as he picked up his cup of hot green tea and walked to the back door. Looking out into the gathering darkness, he sighed before opening one of the French doors leading out to his secluded patio. He started when a pair of red boots appeared in his field of vision, descending slowly to the step outside. A second later his doppelganger, red cape swirling around him, smiled, waving one hand in a hesitant greeting and Rob's tea cup fell from his hand.

The figure in front of him blurred slightly and Rob stared, openmouthed, for a moment before realizing Superman was speaking as he handed his cup of tea, every drop recaptured, back to him. "What?"

"May I come in?" he said again.

"Uh…uh…" he stammered, completely at a loss. For a moment, the tea cup wavered in his hand, threatening to repeat its slide to the floor.

Superman nodded toward the imperiled china. "Careful…"

Rob steadied the cup with his other hand, still unable to utter a coherent syllable.

"I'm sorry; I know this must be a weird to have me show up on your doorstep like this…"

"Oh, no…no…" he stammered.

"It's not?" he asked, arching one dark brow.

"Oh, yes…" he laughed, "yes, it is but…please come in…" Rob stood back and Superman stepped inside.

"Thanks; I really don't want to be seen."

Rob continued to stare, finally saying, "So…it _was_ you in Metropolis. I thought so. At first, I decided I'd hallucinated from the head injury. But when I saw you on TV during the asteroid thing, I was certain. But," he added hastily, "I've never said a word to anyone."

"I appreciate that. Actually…you're not the first person who recognized me from that interview."

"Ah. The clarity of thought that comes from near annihlation."

"Perhaps…but some people who know me quite well still haven't made the connection."

"Connection…what do you…mean?

"I have another identity."

"Another identity? You're not always flying around…in the…um…um…" Rob gestured vaguely in his direction, suddenly embarrassed.

"Tights?" Superman sighed, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah…the tights…the thing is…I'm…really rough on clothing; anything close to my skin is impervious but anything loose get damaged pretty easily. When I was in high school, I used to go through jackets and jeans like you wouldn't… Well, anyway, my mom helped me come up with the suit. Solved the problem and…" he cleared his throat, now it was his turn to be embarrassed. "We borrowed a bit from the history of my homeworld-"

"Krypton…"

"Yeah; but Mom encouraged me to go with primary colors; she thought if the suit was showy, people might not look so closely at the guy wearing it. I nixed a mask but she insisted on the cape."

Smiling at the revelation that Superman's _mother_ had helped design his suit, Rob had to ask, "Did she hang the moniker on you, too?"

Superman rolled his eyes. "No, blame that on Lois. I thought it was terribly pretentious but it stuck and there's no help for it now. Anyway, back to the other identity…"

"Okay…"

"Yeah; I uh…it's actually quite useful; not everyone's open to the idea of someone as different as I am. Sometimes I can get close, talk to people, learn things and do things more easily as one of you. Anyway…I've spent my life trying to blend in, be normal, be just like everybody else. I was raised as one of you, always taught to hide my abilities."

"Oh…" was all Rob could manage to say.

Walking over to the window, Superman stood quietly for a moment, staring up into the starry void. "My parents…my Earth parents, found me when my ship came down outside town. I came with the meteor shower that hit Smallville in 1989; the meteors were actually pieces of my world that traveled along with my ship. I…their truck skidded into a ditch and I came walking up, not remembering a thing about who I was or where I came from."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks. I've learned to accept what happened but having lost one world, I'm determined to keep this one intact. Anyway, I was a toddler when they took me in." He smiled wistfully. "Raised on a Kansas farm, feeding chickens and milking cows; I always knew I was different but I didn't know where I'd come from until I was fifteen. One day I'm worried about freshman year at Smallville High and wishing I could get a date with a girl I had a huge crush on and the next, a guy hits me going sixty in his Porsche, we both end up going off a bridge into the river and after I d rescued him, my dad finally had to explain the reason I wasn't hurt was because I wasn't exactly a local boy. At first, I denied it, tried to pretend I could go on like before then it got really confusing when my bio father's AI tried to control me and…" Superman stopped for a moment. "Sorry; I'm rambling. You seem a little…overwhelmed."

"No, no…it's just that I never thought about how a guy from another planet might have trouble fitting in…"

"Yeah…well, I ran away to Metropolis that summer thinking my parents would be better off without me; it was my dad who found a way to bring me home. Eventually, I realized I couldn't ever have that kind of life. I wasn't normal and I couldn't ever be just like everybody else."

"Wow. I can't imagine how difficult that must have been."

"But I still had a good childhood and good friends; friends that stood by me even when I was a total jerk." Superman looked up, wincing. "Sorry. All in the past. Now I know I'm here for a reason and having this other identity is quite valuable and frankly, it helps me stay sane to have down time, too."

"I'm all for Superman staying sane." Rob couldn't stop himself from glancing at Superman's hand.

Superman held up his unadorned right hand to reassure him. "I know I was acting crazy in Metropolis that summer…the red stone in the ring was a little piece of Krypton; it…releases inhibitions; the longer I'm exposed, the worse it gets. I'm sorry you had to see me that way."

"I guess that explains it; I thought maybe the ring was what gave you your abilities…"

"No…it's just because I'm an alien that I can do things others can't. Like the invulnerability; that's a force field close to my skin generated because I'm under the yellow sun."

Rob stood quietly for a moment, contemplating these answers to questions that had puzzled him for years. "Well, I have to admit, this is all quite fascinating; I've always wondered about you but you don't owe me any explanations; you saved my life and I'm grateful regardless."

"Well, yeah, I kinda do. Because I have a favor to ask."

"What?"

"I…want you to impersonate me."

Rob's mouth fell open again before he managed to speak. "You?"

"Well, Clark Kent, actually; my other identity."

"Clark Kent, huh?" Remembering a blond haired girl's tear streaked face, he wondered if they'd ever made their peace. "No tights?"

"No tights. But there would be a public appearance involved. Will you consider it?"

Rob shook his head slightly, feeling a bit light-headed. "Okay…tell me what I'll have to do." Superman turned, staring intently through the wall into the large garage. "Sure…so… you still have the old Volvo, huh? Nice sturdy frame…" He rubbed his hands together, smiling as he turned back toward Rob.

Superman held onto the undercarriage of the aging Volvo with one long outstretched arm, looking back at Rob over his right shoulder. "It took a while to locate you. You're quite the recluse."

Rob had to shout out the half open window over the whistling of the wind whipping past the car. They were flying low over empty desert at the moment but it was still quite noisy not to mention chilly. "I try to keep a low profile these days. Mainly I consult with corporate executives who have unusual security needs. How'd you find me?"

"Lois actually did it. Unlisted number, remote location, no business in your name; we had to follow quite a few leads before we even came close."

Shivering, Rob pulled the heavy blanket tighter. "Glad I wore the down parka."

"Sorry; it gets pretty cold up here." Superman stared into the window and warmed the interior with a burst of heat vision. "We should be there soon. Maybe you should close the window."

"First," he shouted, "I want to know more about the guy who thinks you're Clark Kent."

"Well, I really don't know more than what I've already told you; he just showed up at the Daily Planet, demanding to see Clark Kent and claiming he had proof we were one and the same. I'd never seen him before and when I denied it and tried to brush him off, he said he'd reveal whatever it is he has at noon tomorrow. Lois thinks he's just a front for somebody else but I don't know…maybe he's just a kook who got lucky…anyway, the best way I can think of to allay suspicion is to have Clark Kent and Superman standing side by side when this guy shows up."

"Sounds like a plan. I take it Lois will be there?"

"Oh, yeah."

While Clark had gone to locate Rob, Lois, having given a great deal of thought to the essentials of differentiating Clark from Superman when they would inevitably be standing side by side, had done her best to come up with a wardrobe that would help to sell it to the crowd. She had dug out an older, somewhat ill fitting suit, a faded shirt, the collar of which was slightly frayed, an absolutely hideous tie and a pair of glasses with large thick round lenses inside old fashioned gold wire rims which gave him a vague owlish look. Once Rob was attired to her satisfaction, she stepped back, staring at him for a few minutes as she tried to think of anything else that would make him appear more Clark-like.

"Well, Clark?" she finally asked. "Whaddaya think?"

Clark lowered his head, letting the glasses slide down his nose and peering over the top of them.

"Yeah. Fiddle with the glasses; let 'em slide down your nose a little then push 'em up with one finger. Or you can grab the temple and pull 'em up, like you're having trouble focusing on something."

Clark pushed the glasses back up with his middle finger, demonstrating for Rob's benefit. "Emphasizes my geekyness." Then he picked up a letter from the desk, craning his neck forward a bit as he brought the paper close to his face, squinting for good measure as he grasped one temple and made a show of trying to adjust his glasses _just so_ in order to read.

"A little squinting is good; Clark's supposed to be near sighted; oh, and even though you can't ever take the glasses off, you can scrunch up your face and rub next to your eye; pretend your eyes are bothering you."

"I won't have to pretend. I've never worn glasses and these are really strong. Where'd you get them?"

"They belonged to Clark's grandfather, Hiram Kent. Sorry but I wanted you to wear something bigger with lenses that distort a little more than Clark's regular pair; I thought they'd help to obscure your eyes. If anybody asks what happened to your regular glasses just say you broke them." Clark watched, quietly amused at how well she knew him.

Basically, all Superman had to do was show up and be his normal imposing super self, anyway but Rob was put through a complete Clark Kent boot camp, given a whirlwind class on being Superman's alter ego, including some basic information on being a journalist in case he encountered any of Clark's co-workers.

"Here's a list of some things you might need to remember if Perry or Jimmy talk to you. Keep it in your coat pocket and if someone asks you something just pull it out, act like you didn't hear them or look confused until Lois can move in and help."

"Chances are they won't but it doesn't hurt to be prepared." After a couple of hours, they asked Rob to move around the room and try to stay in character and Clark watched from the kitchen doorway, nodding in approval. He then suggested Rob should slouch to further disguise their closeness in height and the two of them slouched and slumped around the apartment together for a while until Lois dissolved into giggles and declared they should take a break.

Next Lois sat Rob down to part and comb his hair to more closely match Clark's normal style, always combed over his forehead somewhat to further disguise his face and in sharp contrast to Superman's more severe hairstyle, which, except for one curly lock that seemed to have a mind of its own, was swept back out of the way, accentuating his broad cheekbones and strong chin. All in all, it turned out to be most effective, at least as far as Lois could see and conveyed an image of Clark Kent as a somewhat frazzled nebbish in contrast to Superman's tall forthright supermanliness. Rob wondered what it must be like to have such a double life and play two parts on a daily basis. He could see already how much having a normal life apart from Superman meant to Clark and how much effort he had to put into maintaining it.

The press conference began as scheduled in a small park near the Daily Planet building where Mr. Abbott Hatcher had insisted all interested parties should gather. The little man ranted and raved about aliens among us and the danger to us all, stomping his foot and waving the photograph purporting to show Clark changing into Superman's well known suit. It was only after he had repeatedly yelled at Clark, refusing to be placated and becoming increasingly strident that Superman landed softly behind him, causing shouts of astonishment from the gathered crowd. The little man turned around, howling in outrage at Superman for a moment before redirecting his ire at Lois, apparently having decided it was somehow her fault that Clark Kent and Superman were both standing in front of him.

Clark stepped in front of Lois, attempting to intercede. "Hey. Stop yelling at my…" he hesitated for an instant, "wife. Please listen to reason; I'm not Superman!" He turned, pointing to Superman, "_That_ is Superman."

Lois stepped up beside him, looking angry. "What gives you the right to harass us because you have this crazy idea that Clark Kent is Superman? This has been a nightmare! Let me tell you something-"

"Lois…this isn't helping; let's keep trying to reason with Mr. Hatcher…"

"Oh? You mean it doesn't bother you that your wife might be involved with this-this- alien?"

"What-" Clark shook his head, a look of outrage spreading across his face; he was finding it surprisingly easy to really get into the spirit of the thing. What do you mean?" He grabbed the man by his lapels. "How dare you insult my wife by implying she's been-"

"I heard it on that talk show! That one where everyone's always screaming and fighting; Jerry Springer! It was a guy on Jerry Springer! He said he had to wear aluminum foil on his head to keep aliens from beaming thoughts into his brain and he said they're after our women! He said they all want to have…liaisons with any Earth women they find!" A titter ran through the assembled crowd at this additional revelation.

Lois sputtered and hissed like an angry cat. "Liaison this, you little pr-"

Clark released him, turning to put an arm around her shoulders instead before she had a chance to deck him. Clark leaned close, whispering into her ear, "Calm. We're supposed to be calm…"

"It's a trick! I have the proof! Clark Kent is Superman!"

Superman stepped up to the microphone and pointed out that this was clearly not the case. "Mr. Hatcher. First of all, I'd appreciate it if you'd speak to my friends more politely. Furthermore, I can assure everyone here that I don't spend my time looking for Earth women with which to have," and it took the greatest effort not to smirk when he continued, "liaisons." People in the crowd were laughing out loud, clearly amused. "Nor do I have any way of beaming thoughts into people's minds. If that were possible, couldn't I just have planted the thought into your mind that I wasn't Clark Kent? Or made you cancel this press conference?"

A frown briefly creased Mr. Hatcher's brow he considered this new logic.

"Now…how can you continue to insist we're one person when I'm standing here in front of you alongside Clark Kent?"

"No!" he shouted, his determination returning. "I took this photo myself! You ran out of the alley and-and-" he held up his photo, shaking it at the cameras. "See! Superman just appeared right where you were."

"Mr. Hatcher, it's rather easy to manipulate photos these days using digital technology. If you're a photographer, you probably know how to do that. Do you ever manipulate photos?"

"Well, yeah…sometimes. But not this one!"

"You didn't alter this photo in any way?"

"No! I didn't."

"So…you still claim you saw me run out of an alley, dressed as Clark Kent…"

"Yes!"

"And then Clark Kent turned into Superman? You saw me yourself then you took the picture?"

"Yes! Um…well…"

Superman leaned down, waiting. "Yes, Mr. Hatcher? Go on…"

Shouts of annoyance came from the back of the crowd. "You said you saw him! You said you had proof!"

Superman held up his hand for silence. "Let him finish."

Suddenly, the little man looked a lot less sure of himself. "Well…I…I had my camera set up to take time lapse photos of the night sky…and…it…when I came to get the camera the next day it was pointing down into the alley…" Hatcher's face fell as he continued. "When I developed the film, I saw this and thought I'd discovered that Superman had a secret identity…"

"Did it occur to you that any number of people could have passed by your camera, including Clark and myself?"

"Yes! No…but it looked like you were taking off your shirt and Superman's suit was underneath!"

Clark saw his opportunity. "Mr. Hatcher. It does look like I was loosening my tie and taking off my suit coat but…frankly…after work I just can't wait to get out of 'em. Guess I'm still just a Kansas farmboy at heart. Superman must have passed by later and you jumped to a conclusion."

"But you look a lot alike!" he blurted out, trying to shore up his fading argument.

"Why yes we do, Mr. Hatcher. There is certainly a resemblance but…as you can see, we're two separate people." Superman extended his hearing to listen in on what people thought of this. A smile played at the corner of his mouth when he picked up a scattering of remarks detailing their differences that amounted to, "Yes they kinda do but Kent's a geek and he's shorter."

"I…I…" Now he threatened to dissolve into tears. "I thought…I thought this was my one chance to be famous! I was so sure…I thought I'd discovered Superman's biggest secret!"

Lois, no longer struggling, asked, "Did you ever give a thought to the trouble you'd be causing Superman, all of us, by doing this?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to…I just wanted people to notice…my work." With a truly mournful expression, he looked over at Lois and Clark, adding, "Sorry about the liaison crack. I didn't mean it…I just heard that guy and thought…"

Lois glared at him sternly for a moment then sighed and walked over to him. "Look…you have really caused a lot of trouble; this has been nothing but a nightmare all week long. People have been following me and calling-"

"You're gonna sue me, aren't you?" Behind him, the crowd was quickly starting to disperse, the day's biggest story suddenly a bust.

"No, we're not going to sue you but you have to promise to be more responsible."

The little man actually looked relieved. Perhaps his fifteen minutes of fame hadn't really been what he'd imagined. "I'm gonna destroy this photo; negs, too. I promise I'll never do this again."

"I'm going to hold you to that, Mr. Hatcher." With that, Superman flew up into the air and disappeared over the Metropolis skyline. Clark and Lois turned to walk away when Mr. Hatcher waved something at them and called out.

"What is it, Mr. Hatcher?"

The little man handed her an envelope. "Here, Ms. Lane. You just take this. The negs are in there and all the copies I made."

"Okay. Thanks…"

"And there's one in there of Bigfoot. I figured, if I'm gonna be strictly legit then I better get rid of that, too. You take it. I was a drunk back then and I had a little bitty camera one night and I was sure I'd seen Bigfoot but I'm done with that stuff. You take it and get rid of it, okay?"

"Alright, Mr. Hatcher. No hard feelings."

The little man sighed. "Thanks. Thanks a lot." He started to walk away amidst a chorus of catcalls from the crowd that had been so anxious to believe him only moments before. Lois stopped, taking pity on him, motioning for him to follow and they gave him a ride to his small house in the suburbs.

At last Lois opened the door to their apartment, kicked off her shoes and made a beeline for the kitchen. "Hot tea?"

Rob followed her in and took a seat at the table. "Please. Thank God no one came up to talk to me afterward. I have rarely been so nervous. Those photos were actually quite-"

"Revealing?" She put the kettle on and grabbed the remote. A shipboard explosion and subsequent fire at the Metropolis docks had apparently demanded Superman's attention and though there were only minor injuries, Superman had remained on the scene, assisting the police and fire department in making sure the fire was completely out.

"Looks like Superman won't be back for a while."

"You were great. Really got into the part! Thanks for defending my honor," she added, laughing.

"Clark should get an Oscar for doing this every day."

"Sir Laurence Olivier had nothing on Clark. It takes a lot of effort and skill to make people see only what he wants them to. He's the absolute master of misdirection."

"And did it take you long to see past the disguise?"

Her smile widened. "Not really."

Lois brought Rob's cup of tea and her own coffee to the table. She grabbed a platter out of the microwave and sat it between them. It was piled high with baked goods. "Here. Straight from Smallville; Martha Kent's special muffins…let's see what we've got here…hot fudge chocolate chunk, cream cheese, blueberry…and poppyseed. Ooh…they're still a little warm. Clark detoured down there to pick them up after he left the press conference."

"What's that?"

"Let's find out." Lois opened a card that sat in the midst of the muffins. "It says, 'We watched on LNN; glad everything's okay. The resemblance is amazing. Thank your friend for helping Clark. Enjoy. Love, Mom and Dad.' Awww…I guess they approved of our solution. Here, try a hot fudge chocolate chunk muffin; they're awesome!"

Rob mumbled his approval around a mouthful of muffin just as a thump from somewhere in the apartment alerted Lois to her husband's return. From a narrow shaft that led from a sheltered entrance on the roof , she heard his steps. A hidden door panel opened and Superman emerged, his cape somewhat tattered, covered with soot and a distinctive odor of-

"Manure! Doesn't _that_ bring back memories of times long past?" She went to him, kissing him in spite of his malodorous condition.

"Sorry. The cargo ship's hold was full of elephant manure. I carried it to dry dock after I was sure the fire was completely out. If you think _this_ is bad-"

"We do and it is but welcome home anyway." Smiling, she added, "Feeling relieved? Nice rejoinder on the liaison crack, by the way."

"Yeah, I am. I thought you'd appreciate that bit of clarification." She followed him into the bedroom returning momentarily with a bag containing Superman's uniform and disappeared into the laundry room where she quickly started the wash. "I think this cape's history," she yelled back.

Rob had a weird expression on his face when she returned. "Guess it must be…different living with Clark…"

Laughing, she had to agree. "Yeah. You could say that! Now," she flopped back down at the kitchen table, "let's check out those cream cheese… Oh, God! There are whipped cream scones underneath! Clark! She sent scones!" She handed one to Rob who nodded his agreement that they were quite tasty. An instant later Clark materialized at her side, clean, fresh, and ready to nibble on one.

"Oh, yeah. I love my mom!" Clark became a sudden blur then was back holding out a bowl of fresh cut strawberries in one hand and bowls in the other. "Must have strawberries. Yumm…" Clark quickly split the scones, covering them liberally with the bright red berries before looking at Lois expectantly. "Whipped cream, please."

"He's gotta have whipped cream; it just wouldn't be right without it! Clark loves sweets; it's a good thing you have that Kryptonian metabolism." Clark gave her a devastating smile as she went to the fridge to get the whipped cream. She squirted a heaping mound of whipped cream into each bowl.

Clark read the card as he ate. "It seems you passed the parental unit test."

Thinking Clark was distracted, Lois aimed and fired, shooting a ribbon of whipped cream across the table but Clark turned, deftly catching it in his mouth and looking quite smug.

Rob burst out laughing, surprised to find that in some respects Clark Kent still seemed very much human and had a very playful side.

Lois handed some of Mr. Hatcher's photos to Clark who took a closer look along with Rob. Sighing, Clark sifted through them. "I should have been more careful; he had me dead to rights. If you hadn't been willing to help me out, it would have been pretty tough to convince everyone. I'm very grateful."

"I'm just glad I could help. I'm surprised this hasn't come up before. I mean, haven't any of your close friends or colleagues at the paper ever remarked on your resemblance to Superman? "

"Not really; well, once Jimmy commented on it but it was more along the lines of me looking a little like Superman and him betting I could get a date with Cat Grant as a result."

"Remind me to strangle Jimmy on Monday."

Clark pulled her into his lap, wrapping an arm around her. "That was before he realized I only had eyes for you."

"Anyway, I thought Cat Grant's only requirement was that a guy had to have a-"

"Now, now," he interrupted, chuckling. "You can put those claws away." His laughter subsided and they sat quietly for a few minutes, Lois balancing on Clark's knee as they finished off the scones.

"Look…one thing, Clark…I…I just keep wondering why we look so much alike. How can that be since you're…"

"Not from around here?"

"Yeah. I mean, what are the odds of two people from different planets looking like each other?"

"Well, there's cloning but since you don't seem to have my abilities, I have another theory."

Lois looked back at him. "Let's hear it."

"There's an Indian tribe, the Kawatches, whose ancestral lands were near Smallville. Some of their legends involve a being who came from the stars and supposedly had a forbidden affair with an earth woman."

"Those aliens!" Lois laughed. "The Kawatche legends also say the first visitor promised another like him would one day return, 'arriving in a rain of fire with the strength of ten men and the ability to shoot fire from his eyes.' That was about five hundred years ago. Pretty accurate prediction, I'd say," she added.

"That is amazingly close to accurate…"

"Um…well, the tribe claims to be descended from the two of them."

"Seriously? Humans and Kryptonians could actually… You think that might be possible?"

Clark smiled at Lois, rubbing her back gently. "Apparently, it is."

Rob looked from Lois to Clark then back again. "Oh…you're…wow; uh…congratulations; that's great!"

"Just don't tell Jerry Springer," Lois added as she leaned over the table, rooting around on the platter for any stray pieces of cream scone that might have been missed.

Clark cleared his throat. "Well…anyway, I have proof some of my ancestors were here before me and if you did have relatives who came from this part of Kansas, it's certainly possible you could actually have some Kryptonian genes. For that matter, my ancestors found their way to other parts of the globe; I guess there could have been other-"

"Liaisons," Lois added, helpfully.

"Thank-you, Lois. Jerry's on line one for you. At any rate, that might account for it."

Rob sat in silence for a few moments. Finally, he said, "_I_ could be part Kryptonian?"

"Maybe. I guess the genes could be recessive depending on how they combine with human DNA and there might never be any outward physical manifestation of the Kryptonian genetic factors; they might be dormant until something triggers them _or_ a human-Kryptonian hybrid might just have better eyesight or reflexes, be a little stronger, run a little faster or…be more resistant to illness or injury or just recover more rapidly from them." Clark stared pointedly at him. "Do you realize how close you were to that grenade in Metropolis? I was actually surprised you weren't killed. And you did recover pretty quickly."

Rob was looking decidedly stunned. "I've always healed quickly. And I've never…that's the worst I've ever gotten hurt that I can remember…and I never seem to get sick. But I just figured I had better reflexes than most people and I…just never really thought much about it."

Lois interrupted her scone hunt to stare intently at Rob. "You weren't in Smallville during or after the meteor shower, were you?"

"Uh…no; why?"

"Just checking." Lois resumed her search for any last crumbs, finally settling for half of a cream cheese muffin. "The meteors that fell with Clark's ship, the green ones, changed some of the local population, gave them unusual abilities. Enhanced immune systems, unusual reflexes, speed and strength, teleporting-"

"Teleporting!" Rob exclaimed. "Seriously?"

"Uh…yeah." For a brief moment, Clark had an odd look on his face; Lois ruffled his hair and kissed him before he continued. "The power to persuade people to do your bidding, the power to walk through walls-"

"The ability to elicit the truth about anything," Lois added, wincing. "And shapeshifting…"

"Shapeshifting! Do you really mean people who can change their form?" Rob exclaimed, his eyes now as big as saucers.

"Yeah. The Kawatches called them skinwalkers. And then there was the guy who could split himself in two. That was really bizarre; a squishy little face grew out of this guy's back and grew into a full sized replica so he could be in two places at once. He tried to throw Lana and-" He stopped when he saw the look on Rob's face. "Sorry; this is freaking you out."

Rob ran his hand through his hair, took a deep breath then slowly blew it out. "So these people could do the things you can but not all at once?"

"Well…mostly. Unfortunately, most of the people who were affected used their abilities to take advantage of others."

Lois shuddered. "Remember Ginsu Boy? Eeewww…that was creepy."

"Ginsu Boy?"

"Morphed his arms into long sharp blades when he felt pissy; sorta like Edward Scizzorhands but definitely lacking Johnny Depp's charm." Lois made some chopping motions until she saw the horrified look on Rob's face. "Bet he could have made a fortune at Bennihana."

"Okaaay, Lois, I think Rob's sufficiently weirded out now," he said, patting her on the back. He cocked one eyebrow at her as he continued. "Anyway, to return to the actual point, you might be completely human. Many people do have exceptional reflexes and some are naturally resistant to disease; it may be nothing more than that. It's hard to say without further investigation but since you are almost identical to me, I have to suspect that Kryptonian DNA may be the reason. Also, strong family resemblance appears to be run in our family. I look exactly like my bio-father, Jor-El."

Shaking his head, Rob muttered "Wow…wow."

"If you ever want to know I could look at a blood sample…perhaps you could come to the Fortress."

"Would it be obvious?"

"Maybe. Kryptonian DNA has a third strand that enables me to process sunlight directly; I craved being outside in the bright sun even before I knew why. I could check for any residual bits of that first. Then…we could see if there are any other markers."

"Well, I've always liked the sun."

Clark walked up to their building, carrying two bags of groceries filled with special treats for Lois who was already having food cravings, and up the stairs to the top floor, making sure to huff laboriously as he passed by the landlord who was just leaving. Lois was waiting for him when he returned.

"We really owe Rob. I'd like to return the favor."

"Seems like a really nice guy. So, did you get him back all safe and sound and undetected?"

"Yeah; I don't think anyone suspects."

Lois cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. "I know you could have checked his blood here with just your eyes; I wondered why you didn't offer."

"Yeah." he admitted with a smile. "I thought maybe he was suffering from information overload already; I figured he could use some time to process everything and decide if he really wanted to know."

"It's not everyday you find out you might be ET's brother."

Laughing, he agreed. "No, it's not. But by the time we got back, he'd figured out I could probably take a cursory look without any equipment."

"And…"

"I was right. I could see some of the blood factors; he's related in some way. I told him how to contact me if he wanted me to do more detailed research. Rob sounded excited at the prospect of seeing the Fortress but I think he was more than a little overwhelmed."

Clark pulled her close and looked into her bright green eyes. "So what'll we do now that all the excitement's over?"

"A little additional research."

"On what?"

"Earth girls; I hear there's one who'd be pretty easy to seduce."

"Which one, exactly? Because with all these liaisons-" Lois cut him off with a kiss. "Well, that clears that up." he said when he came up for air. "And if you taught me anything, it's that doing your own research can be very rewarding." Clark picked her up and she wrapped herself around him as he carried her off down the hall. "I'll be very thorough."

"You'd better be."

By the time Clark had gotten him back home, it had occurred to Rob that Clark could probably use his extraordinary visual abilities to see into his body and check his blood for evidence. Clark had readily admitted he'd thought it was a lot to take in and wanted to give Rob time to think about it. Yet when Rob insisted he was ready to know, Clark obliged him. The look on Clark's face said it all and Rob knew the answer before he spoke but the reality was, Rob had known it was true when Clark had first brought it up. Even years ago in Metropolis, he'd known they were somehow linked despite Clark's insistence to the contrary; this was merely a confirmation of what his subconscious had been saying for a long time, startling yet comforting at the same time. Afterward, Rob had asked him what Krypton had been like and Clark told him a little bit about it, explaining something of how he'd learned about it himself. He'd mentioned the theory that some of his own knowledge might have been encoded genetically, to be accessed later by some trigger. That had clearly taken Rob aback and Clark left shortly afterward, thinking perhaps Rob had reached his limits for the time being.

Glancing in a hallway mirror as he came downstairs, he stopped, staring intently at his face for a moment, examining it for any sign that might betray the fact that it was different others. But it was the same face that had always stared back at him, no different now than it had ever been. He smirked, making a face at the mirror and Rob Meltzer smirked back at him, wiggling two fingers behind his head like antennae before announcing, "I really need some hot tea."

Now he sat looking out over the ocean, quietly sipping his tea. Delighted as he'd been to help Clark, it had turned out to be a strange and unsettling experience. Learning he was somehow related to Superman had stunned him as few things had, not to mention the knowledge that Clark and Lois were having a child. _Does that mean I'm an uncle now?_ And he'd been invited to visit the Superman's fabled Fortress of Solitude. "Wow!" he said aloud again as he contemplated the prospect. _I mean, how many people get to do that?_ Still, he felt good, all things considered, especially to have an old mystery finally solved, his questions answered at last.

A smile spread across his face as he remembered his surprise on meeting Lois and their obvious delight when Clark had announced the big news. It seemed things had come full circle. Chloe had finally found her friend.


End file.
